


I Swear to God, if Underpants Gnomes are Real...

by anyrei, mugglerock



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Although Now I’m Kinda Sad It Isn’t, And Yes That’s a South Park Reference in the Title, Bunker Fic, But This is Not a South Park/Supernatural Crossover, Canon verse, Comedy, Cuz Duh It’s Us, Dean’s Lucky Drawers, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, For Once the Tags are Purposely Vague, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Romance, Silly Ass Premise, The fluffiest fluff, We Guarantee It, You’re Gonna Coo, that’s all you’re getting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:47:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22811872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anyrei/pseuds/anyrei, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mugglerock/pseuds/mugglerock
Summary: Dean’s stuff keeps disappearing from the bunker, and so far it’s not lookin’ to be any of the usual creepy, crawly, supernatural crap they encounter. At this point, he wouldn’t be surprised if it was friggin’ underpants gnomes.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 17
Kudos: 321
Collections: The AnyRock Collection





	1. We Won't Stop Until

**Author's Note:**

> Frankie here: I genuinely have no idea what brought this on. LOL. And for once, you aren't getting a novel's worth of tags because we literally wanted to give away VERY little to what happens here, you know, a fun, silly surprise! 
> 
> We hope you enjoy it! <3<3<3
> 
> (P.S. All the destiel hugs, kisses, and x-rated shenanigans to our t-rex, the fabulous [Eyes_of_a_Tragedy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eyes_of_a_Tragedy), for an incredibly thorough beta job!)
> 
> P.P.S. You can follow us on our joint tumblr [here](https://the-real-anyrock.tumblr.com/)!

**Chapter One**

It wasn’t often that Sam offered to do Dean’s laundry with his own, but Dean had no qualms relinquishing that chore. He hated doing laundry. It was why he ended up wearing the same clothes for days on end. Those clothes were already dirty, and considering their jobs, their lives… Dean didn’t see the point of swapping them out for clean clothes on a daily basis. Less dirty clothes, less laundry to do. 

He pulled out the duffel of dirty clothes he kept in his closet. He always waited until it was half full before he dumped them in the washing machine; unless, of course, Sam was feeling charitable. Dean double checked to make sure his favorite pair of boxers were in it. He only owned eight pairs of underwear, one for each day of the week, with a backup pair in case of emergencies.

They were his lucky boxers. Yeah, there were a couple of tears, the elastic was starting to wear, and the AC/DC logo had faded almost entirely, but they were still wearable. Dean bought them a long time ago, and any time something good happened, he always happened to be wearing them. Dean knew it was coincidental, but it made him wonder sometimes.

Dean had been wearing them when they found the bunker, found their home. That awesome night he and Charlie were each other’s wingmen and ended up leaving with the hottest women Dean had seen to date. The day they found out Sam got a free ride to Stanford. Goddamn, he was so proud of him.    
  


He was wearing them every time he got Cas back. And whether or not it was coincidental, Dean figured it couldn’t hurt to not press his luck.

After digging through the pile twice, he let out a frustrated groan. No sign of them. Dean double checked the floor of his closet, and under his bed. Dean hummed as he tried to retrace his steps. He’d worn them on their hunt in Wisconsin a week ago. Damn, he really hoped they got mixed in with Sammy’s stuff.

Dean grabbed the duffel and made his way to the laundry room. He found Sam dumping his laundry into the industrial sized washer. “Hey, my favorite boxers aren’t with your stuff, are they?”

Sam looked over his shoulder with a frown. "Um, I don't think so, but you can check?" Sam stepped away from the machine so Dean had space to go through the laundry.

He leaned over and started digging, but came up with nothing.  _ Shit. _ Dean drew back. “Maybe I left them at that motel.”

Sam shook his lion mane. "I always go through the room one more time before we leave. I haven't seen them. Maybe they're in your room?"

“I checked. That’s why I asked you. I’ll go ask Cas,” he said as he dumped the clothes from his duffel into the machine. “Don’t start the load until I’m back.”

He didn’t wait for Sam to respond as he made his way to Cas’s room. Dean didn't bother knocking; he just opened the door. “Cas?”

Cas was only wearing his shirt and pants, his hair in complete disarray as he rubbed his back against the wall in his room. He startled a little and froze in his movement before he straightened himself. "Hello, Dean."

Dean let out a surprised huff of laughter. “You alright, Baloo?”

Cas replied with an impressive bitch face. “Yes, it’s just… nothing. What do you want?”

Dude must have woken up on the wrong side of… Well, nothing because angels didn’t sleep. “You seen my favorite boxers? I can’t find them.”

“No,” Cas replied pretty quickly.

“You sure? They’re my AC/DC ones.” 

Cas squinted his eyes at him. "They aren't here."

Dean raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, grumpy bear, I’ll leave.”

Cas bit down on his lower lip before he quietly murmured, "I'm sorry."

“For being grumpy, or for my underwear?” he asked with a laugh.

Cas shuffled his feet, not looking at him as he replied, "Both." 

Dean shrugged and sighed. “Well, let me know if you have any laundry? We can toss it in with our stuff.”

Cas looked over at his discarded trench coat and down to his shirt. Both covered in blood. "Actually, I think my clothes need to be cleaned. I… I just didn't feel strong enough to use my grace to do it."

Dean held out his arms. “Load me up. You can go back to wall rubbing.”

Cas walked over to the trench coat to pick it up and handed it to Dean, before he unbuttoned his shirt and tugged his tie open, sliding it out of the collar. He shrugged the shirt off, handing it unceremoniously to Dean. "Do you think the tie needs to be washed too?" 

“Does it have blood on it?”  _ Also when did Cas get so ripped?  _ Dean tried to not stare, but the guy was… weirdly buff.

Cas looked down at the tie, inspecting it before he sighed. "Yes." He put it on the pile Dean was already carrying. "Thank you."

Dean nodded as he said, “If you need to wash your pants too, you can grab some stuff from my room. Whatever you need; I don’t mind.”

Cas gave him a surprised look. "Um, thank you, Dean. That is very helpful." His hands went to his pants, starting to unbutton them.

“Whoa, Magic Mike. You don’t need to strut your stuff down the hall. Come on,” he breathed out with a laugh. Laughing was Dean’s default response when he found himself in a weird place, like a combination of freaked out and turned on. 

Cas looked confused for a moment before he buttoned his pants again and followed Dean to his room.

Dean was grateful he left his door open. He leaned against the frame and nodded towards his closet. “There’s a laundry basket that’s got my clean stuff in it.”

Cas opened the closet and raised an eyebrow. "Why do you keep your clothes in a basket in the closet?" he asked before pulling out one of Dean's cozy plaids, slipping his arms inside the sleeves. He didn't button it, instead his hands went back to his pants and opened them, before dropping them on the ground and pulling them off. He was wearing white boxers that didn't hide anything even though they were baggy.

Dean cleared his throat and forced his gaze to the ceiling. “So I don’t mistake them for the dirty clothes.”

He heard Cas going through his clothes, pulling something out. "I don't understand. Do you put your unwashed clothes in the closet too?"

“Yeah, in duffel bags. If I threw the clean clothes in a duffel, then I wouldn’t know what’s clean.”

For a moment Cas didn't reply, and when Dean looked at him again he looked extremely thoughtful, buttoning up a pair of his jeans. There was a soft, happy trail inching downwards, the muscles in his chest twitching with the movement of his hands. "That sounds like a complicated system."

Dean shrugged and cleared his throat to distract himself. “Works for me.”

Cas walked over and handed him his pants. "I guess that's the most important thing. Thank you, Dean. For the clothes." 

Dean nodded. It was weird how different Cas looked wearing Dean’s clothes. Like… comfortable. “Sure. And if you find my boxers, let me know.”

Cas looked away then, nodding softly. "I will," he replied quietly as he started buttoning the shirt. "I… I need to go back to my room. Excuse me," he murmured before he walked past Dean and vanished down the hallway.

“You’re welcome?” he said to the empty room. Dean shook his head.

_ Weird day. _

**…. :::: :::: ….**

Dean didn’t know why he was sentimental about a pen. It was a shitty, tourist trap pen from Canada that Ben had got him on a class field trip. Whenever he needed a pen, that was the one he grabbed first.

And it was missing. Dean was starting to get frustrated. Granted, they lost stuff all the time; between hopping from motel to motel, and that was without the addition of supernatural creatures fucking with them, it was a standard to leave things behind.

The problem was though, he  _ knew  _ that pen had been in his room. Dean put it in his nightstand the night before. So, either Dean was going crazy, or they had a poltergeist, or friggin’ underpants gnomes.

Dean smacked his hand on the table Sam was sitting at, nose deep in a book on the Co-Ed killer.  _ And I have weird hobbies. _ Sam visibly startled as Dean said, “We’ve got a poltergeist.”

"What?" Sam looked alarmed. "Why?"

“What do you mean 'why'? We live in an underground bunker filled with haunted artifacts.” Dean rolled his eyes and sat down. “All my shit is disappearing.”

Sam put his book down to give him a long look. "Dean, you lose things all the time."

Dean shook his head. “No, my Canadian Mountie pen is never out of my sight for long. And I  _ know _ I put it in my room last night.”

"Did you feel any cold spots in your room?" Sam asked, almost bored. "Did you check the EMF?"

“Well, it didn’t show anything, but maybe it isn’t a poltergeist. Maybe it’s something else.” Dean shook his head. “Are you missing stuff?”

Sam leaned back against the chair. "No, I’m not." He grinned teasingly. "Maybe you really have gnomes in your room."

Dean rolled his eyes, but at this point, it wouldn’t really surprise him. “You gonna make jokes, or are you gonna help me find what’s taking my shit?”

Sam sighed before he nodded. "Yeah, alright. I'll look into the lore. How much stuff are you missing?"

“My lucky boxers, the Mountie pen, one of my pocket knives, the Mr. Rogers sweater, my robe, the flannel pajamas Jody got me last Christmas, and a couple shirts, but Cas might have one of them.”

Sam's expression turned thoughtful. "That's a lot of stuff. Have you asked Cas if he can sense anything in your room?"

Dean snapped his fingers and pointed at his brother. “Good idea.” He jumped up and made his way to the hall and towards Cas’s room, making a point to knock on the door this time.

Cas didn't reply. He had been weirdly closed off the past few days, and Dean wondered if he was avoiding him. 

Dean knocked even louder and said, “Cas! You in there?”

He heard some shuffling behind the door, and after what felt like an eternity later, Cas opened it, blinking owlishly at him. His hair was a mess and he had pillow lines on his face. "Dean."

“Dude, were you sleeping?”

Cas stepped back and walked to his unmade and rumpled bed, sitting down on the edge of it. "Yes. What do you need?"

Dean furrowed his brow. “What’s going on? You losing your mojo?” he asked as he stepped forward and braced his hand on the guy’s forehead.

Cas's skin felt warm. Way too warm. The angel shook his head. "I'm alright. It's just a phase. In a few weeks I'll be back to normal."

“Phase?” What the hell did that mean? “Like angel puberty?”

Cas gave him a bitch face which lost all its power with the bed hair and the pillow patterns decorating his cheek. "No… My grace is… um, reorganizing itself. It's nothing to worry about." It didn't sound like the  _ whole  _ truth.

“Does that mean it’s not amped up enough to sense something?” he asked, taking a mental note to tell Sam to also look into angel lore while he was at it.

Cas tilted his head. "Sensing something? Did you find a case?"

Dean shook his head. “I think we’ve got some kinda poltergeist or something here in the bunker.”

Cas seemed alarmed by that. "Where? I could try to smite it."

“Calm down, tiger,” he said with a laugh. “And I think it’s in my room.”

"Did you see it?" Cas asked as he pushed himself off the bed. He seemed a little unstable on his legs, and the bags under his eyes had bags.

Dean stepped forward to steady him. “No offense, dude, but you look like you’d lose a fight with a feather right now.”

Cas leaned into him for a moment, blue eyes glazed over and glassy as they locked his. "I'm really tired, but I want to help. If it's a ghost in your room, that could be very dangerous. What if it attacks you during the night?"

Dean chuckled and shook his head. “It ain’t that kinda ghost. It’s just swiping my shit.”

Cas froze for a moment before he looked away. "I see. So… you don't know what is causing this?"

“No, but it’s gotta be something. Have you noticed any of your stuff disappearing?” Dean looked around Cas’s bare bones room. It wasn’t like he had much to take.

Cas shook his head slowly. "Um, no." He sat back on the bed again, his eyes drifting shut.

Dean nodded, patting Cas on the shoulder. “Get sleep. Sammy and I will figure it out.”

Cas gave him a soft smile. "I'm sure your belongings aren't really gone, Dean."

That made even less sense. “Mojoless you is optimistic.”

Cas hummed and laid down on the bed, curling into it like a cat. "Everything will be good."

Dean shook his head, unable to hold back the laugh. “Go to sleep, hippie.”

He received a contented hum, and a thumbs up from where Cas was buried under his blanket, as a response.

_ Unfrigginbelievable.  _ Dean hit the lights and gently closed the door behind him. When he reached the laundry room, his brother was folding the clothes from the dryer. 

“No luck,” Dean answered before Sam could ask as he dumped Cas’s stuff in the washing machine. “Also, is there such a thing as angel colds?”

Sam looked surprised at the sight of Cas’s clothes. “Um, what? Is Cas okay?”

“He says it’s a phase, whatever that means, but he’s sleeping, and I think he’s got a fever,”  _ and it’s adorable,  _ his traitorous brain unhelpfully added.

“That sounds worrying. Did he say what kind of phase?” Sam asked curiously as he poured detergent into the washing machine. 

Dean shook his head. “No, just that I shouldn’t worry about it.” As he shifted himself up on the dryer, he let out a sigh. “Maybe you should focus on figuring out what’s wrong with Cas; I’ll try to figure out what’s swiping my stuff.”

“Do you think it's related? That whatever is stealing your things, might also be influencing Cas?" Sam asked thoughtfully, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Cas seemed to know what’s happening to him, but ready to take out whatever was taking my stuff, so I’m gonna go with no.” 

Sam nodded and sighed. "Alright, I'll hit the angel lore books and you try to find your culprit?"

Dean nodded. “Yeah, you understand Enochian better than I do, anyway.”

**…. :::: :::: ….**

Dean couldn’t nail down any lore on what was taking his stuff. There was no consistency in what was being taken. Sometimes it was valuable, like the gold-plated wallet clip he stole off a hoity toity fang. And sometimes it had no value whatsoever, like the beat up old copy of  _ Slaughterhouse Five _ he got from a public library when he was fifteen. 

The only logical thing to do was set traps for everything. From a hidden devil’s trap painted with glow in the dark paint, some anti-ghost sigils, a couple of different types of hex bags, a warding or two… Dean figured if that didn’t keep out whatever was pulling a Winona on him, nothing would and he might as well just offer up all of his belongings.

Dean chose to sleep in one of the other rooms that night, just in case any of the traps worked. The following morning, he went to his room, bracing himself for whatever he was going to find. When he opened the door, his shoulders sank in disappointment. Not a thing was out of place. 

He even went so far to put some of his stuff from the trunk on display throughout the room. Not a single thing moved. Dean let out a sigh and dropped himself on his bed. The comforter shifted, and Dean caught a glimpse of stark white. 

Brow furrowed, Dean pulled the comforter back to reveal an uncovered mattress. “Son of a bitch,” he cursed as he got up to yank the blanket up and off. “Who steals a man’s sheets?”

A moment later Sam appeared in the doorway. "What happened?"

Dean pointed to his bed. “You can’t tell me I’m crazy now.”

Sam gaped at the bed and shook his head slowly. "It stole your sheets?"

“Yeah! None of the damn traps or sigils worked.” Dean sighed and shook his head. “I’m half tempted to get a nanny cam.”

"That's actually not a bad idea. I could install our camera in your room; then you could check the footage tomorrow." Sam pushed some hair out of his face. "I also found a book that could explain why Cas is feeling under the weather."

Dean clapped a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “I ever tell you you’re the best?”

"Not often enough," Sam joked before he gestured him to follow him in the library. As soon as they were there, Sam pressed the thick book in Dean's hand. "I marked the sides. Read up on it and tell me what you think, alright? I'll take care of the camera while you’re at it."

Dean nodded and dropped the book on the table. He’d get to it later. Cas didn’t seem to be all that worse, and he kept telling them he was fine. It would be over soon. Dean made his way to the kitchen. He deserved some bacon.

Cas was sitting at the kitchen table, still wearing the clothes that Dean had lent him, nursing a cup of… sugar.

Dean couldn’t help the chuckle as he gently patted Cas’s back. “You’re supposed to put some coffee in there too.”

A way too cute noise fell from Cas's lips as he yawned and blinked up at him. "Oh, you're right."

“You sure you’re okay?” Dean asked as he braced his hand on Cas’s forehead again. He ignored the weird urge to make the guy soup.

Cas hummed and leaned his warm forehead against Dean's hand. "Yes, your hand feels nice," he murmured tiredly.

Dean withdrew his hand as he stepped back. “Yeah, you’re loopy. Maybe you need to eat. I’m gonna fry up some bacon.”

The chair scratched on the floor when Cas stood up, looking slightly confused. "No, um, I... I'm sorry, I'm a little out of it. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. Maybe I should just stay out of your way until this is over."

Dean grasped his shoulders. “Dude, sit. Drink your coffee, and I’ll make you something to eat.”

Cas looked really uncomfortable for a moment before he stared at his sugar cup and nodded. He walked over to the coffee machine, his movements slow and sluggish.

“Dude, if you just tell us what’s happening to you, maybe we can help?” 

"There is nothing you can do to help, Dean." Cas replied after a moment, still staring at the coffee machine. "I have to go through this alone. It will be over in a few weeks. There is nothing to worry about."

Dean sighed as he pulled the bacon out of the fridge. “You say that, but you’re sleeping more and more.”

"It's a very energy consuming phase." Cas poured the coffee into his cup as soon as the machine was ready. "It's not unusual."

“Then why didn’t you tell us about it?”

"Dean, I don't want to talk about this," Cas growled.

Dean’s eyebrows shot up. “Jeez, sorry I gave a shit.”

Cas looked up at the ceiling with a sigh before he massaged his forehead with his fingers. "I apologize. I didn't mean to snap at you."

“Yeah, well, I’ll leave it alone. But I’m still cooking you some bacon.”

Cas gave him a soft smile. "Thank you, Dean." He leaned against the counter, sipping his coffee and Dean could feel Cas's eyes on him. "I'm sorry I didn't inform you about this... phase. I didn't think it was necessary; and I always hope, when it happens, it will be over quickly."

Dean nodded as he turned on the stove and grabbed a frying pan. “How often does it happen?”

Cas shook his head. "It's not a regular event. Sometimes only every thousand years. Sometimes it happens more often."

“And it doesn’t hurt you?”

The reply took a while. "It's very uncomfortable. I try to sleep during that time."

Dean gave him a pointed look. “Seriously, maybe there’s something we can do. I bet Sam could find something in the lore or…”

"Dean," Cas interrupted him, "there is nothing you can do."

“Yeah, but do we  _ really  _ know that? Maybe you don’t know it won’t help ‘cause you haven’t tried a human remedy…”

"There is nothing wrong with me," Cas replied with an irritated tone in his voice. "This is just a phase, and it will be over soon, Dean. You just have to deal with the fact that I will be out of commission for the next few hunts."

Dean rolled his eyes. “I’m concerned for you, not for how useful you are.”

"I'm telling you, Dean. I'm fine. My current condition isn't dangerous. It's just very inconvenient and annoying." Cas sighed and massaged his forehead again. “Can we please stop talking about this now?”

“Fine,” he relented with a sigh. “But if you get worse, we’re intervening.”

Cas looked at the ceiling again, like he was praying for strength. "There is nothing you can do anyway."

Dean smirked at him. “You said that about the first apocalypse, too.”

"This is different. I know why this is happening and what I need. But it's nothing I can have." Cas stood up from his chair. "I'm sorry. I have to go back to my bed."

Dean furrowed his brow. “Want me to bring you the sandwich?”

Cas shook his head. “No, just… just let me sleep,” he said before he walked out of the kitchen.

_ Huh. _ Maybe Dean should read the book Sammy gave him. Dean stared at the sizzling bacon and figured that could wait until later.

**…. :::: :::: ….**

This time the picture of him and Mom, from when Dean was a kid, disappeared. Dean immediately pulled up the software to watch the video footage of the camera he set up.

Dean fast forwarded through the bullshit. Dean getting undressed, crawling under the covers, a tell-tale movement of some stress relief before he cleaned himself up and knocked out for the night.

He kept the mouse hovered over the skip button until there was a flash of movement. It took him way too long to figure out how to get it back to the right moment. And after what felt like watching paint dry for another five minutes, that’s when Dean’s door creeped open.

Dean let out an incredulous huff of laughter. “Son of a bitch.”


	2. We Have Underpants!

**Chapter Two**

He noticed when it started. It was an uncomfortable pull at his grace. Something he hadn't felt in a long time and hoped he would have been spared from for the next thousand years. 

Not that it was a surprise to him. He knew what triggered it. He wasn't unaware of his feelings for Dean. 

He hoped it would be over soon. That if he just stayed away from Dean and waited until it was over, it would be easier.

Dean was in the shower, and Sam was busy packing for their trip back to the bunker. Dean’s favorite underwear was lying next to Cas on Dean’s bed. The material looked soft, worn. A well-loved item of clothing. 

Cas reached out and grabbed it, carefully stuffing it in his coat pocket. His hand felt warm and nice, touching the fabric. The feeling of comfort spread through his essence like a wildfire. He almost sighed out loud. 

Sam turned around to look at him. “Ready to go home, Cas? I can’t wait to get out of my clothes.”

He nodded, giving him a soft smile. “Of course.”

**…. :::: :::: ….**

Cas felt comfortable in Dean's clothing, but they started to lose Dean's smell. He paced through the bunker, wishing he could sleep. He knew there was only one way to get through this phase, but he wasn’t sure how he should do it. 

First, he needed a good place.

He explored the bunker until he found the perfect spot by accident. He secured Dean’s underwear in the place before he went back to pacing through the bunker. All his instincts were pulling him to Dean’s room, so he quietly walked through the hallways, carefully opening the door to Dean’s room.

Dean was sleeping, snoring lightly, and Cas couldn't help but look at him for a moment. He knew Dean didn't like that, so he started to wander around. He carefully opened the drawer of his nightstand and looked inside.

There were several interesting items. A purple bottle that read, “Astroglide,” a box of condoms, tissues, photos, a vintage magazine with Asian women that Dean liked to look at... but what caught his eye was a bright red pen. There was a man in a uniform riding a horse on the pen, and the liquid inside made it move around as Cas lifted the pen out of the drawer. 

Dean loved to write with this pen. Dean’s fingers had been wrapped around this item, and touching it almost felt like touching Dean’s hand. Cas smiled as he felt the comfort spreading through his body again, sensing the relief from the uncomfortable writhing of his turmoiled grace. He put the pen in his pocket and quickly left, before Dean could wake up.

**…. :::: :::: ….**

Cas had liberated more items from Dean's room, mostly at night, but sometimes he found things speaking to him during the day. Like that golden clip Dean used for his money. He had left it on the kitchen table after emptying his pockets to put his jeans in the washing machine. The gold was shiny under the kitchen light, and Cas was unable to look away from the nice object. It was beautiful. 

A second later, it was in his pocket and he left the kitchen, wandering into the library to see what Sam was doing. His thumb rubbed over the clip to keep his grace calm and comforted. But he still quickly felt drained of energy and knew he needed more.

So he excused himself to go back to his room. The door to Dean’s room was open, but Dean wasn’t inside. It was risky, but Cas still walked inside, as if the objects in Dean’s room were calling out to him. On Dean’s shelf over the bed was a book. Cas knew it was Dean’s favorite, so he quickly grabbed it to hide in his trench coat. 

Right at that moment, Dean returned with a basket of laundry. Cas startled a little. “Oh, there you are. I was looking for you,” Cas lied quickly.

Dean’s eyebrows shot up. “What’s up?” he asked as he brought the basket into his room and placed it in his closet.

"I was just, um, wondering if, um, we could watch a movie together... later, I mean... Since you don't have a case." Cas could have slapped himself for that suggestion. Spending time with Dean wouldn't exactly make his situation easier. He needed to control himself. It was hard not to gravitate closer to Dean.

Dean’s eyes practically lit up. “Yeah, that’d be awesome. Did you have a movie in mind?”

_ Damn it. _ "A western?" Cas suggested, just because he knew it would make Dean happy. Making him happy was very soothing on his grace.

“Oh, hell yeah. I think the _ Magnificent Seven’s  _ on Netflix now…” Dean continued to rattle off different facts about that western and its actors. It was a muffled sound, quieted by the relief that he had been able to distract Dean so thoroughly.

"Okay, I'll go and make some popcorn," Cas replied with a soft smile, needing an excuse to leave the room and hide the book.

Dean smiled brightly and said, “I’ll get everything set up in the Dean Cave.”

Cas nodded, starting to walk out of the room.

That’s when Dean called out, “Hey, Cas?”

“Yes?” he asked over his shoulder.

Dean flashed him a smirk. “If you love me, you’ll grab us some beers too.”

Cas froze for a moment, swallowing as his heart made an uncomfortable leap. He nodded before he practically fled the room with a heavy beating heart. He hid the book under his blanket in his room before he threw his coat onto the bed too and went back to the kitchen to make popcorn. He hoped he had enough strength to get through the next few hours with Dean in his vicinity.

**…. :::: :::: ….**

His situation was getting worse; the proximity to Dean only made this harder for him, and he needed relief. He needed something big. Cas knew that Dean wouldn’t sleep in his room tonight, and he also knew about the traps Dean had put in his room to trap whoever was responsible for stealing his stuff. 

Cas wished he could tell Dean that he didn’t need to worry and that all his things would be returned to him. But he knew that wasn’t possible without admitting that he was the culprit. Cas couldn’t let Dean find out, and he had to be careful not to get caught. 

During the night he wandered into Dean’s room, walking past the traps and smiling for a moment when he noticed the demon trap. He wondered if he should take the blanket or the pillow, but Dean would probably notice that. His gaze fell on the sheet. 

He hummed thoughtfully. Maybe if he took the sheet and covered the mattress with the blanket, Dean wouldn’t notice. He wasn’t sleeping in his room anyway. Maybe he could get away with it.

Cas quickly stripped the bed and hung the sheet over his shoulder before he covered the mattress strategically with the cover and the pillow. It looked untouched when he was done.

Satisfied with the result, he turned his face and buried his nose into the sheet, just breathing in Dean’s scent and warmth for a few minutes. This was perfect. Exactly what he needed.

**…. :::: :::: ….**

Cas needed more. He knew it was a risk, but he couldn’t stop himself. Dean was back to sleeping in his room, and Cas hoped he wouldn’t get caught. He already had an excuse ready if Dean woke up and saw him in his room. But he hoped he didn’t have to use it. He just needed to be quick. He knew what he wanted, and he knew where to find it. It was a picture of Dean as a child with his mother, and it was standing on the shelf over Dean’s bed. 

He carefully opened the door and tiptoed inside. When he stood next to Dean’s bed, he stared longingly at the man for a few seconds before he caught himself and returned to the task at hand. The picture. He grabbed it quickly and put it in the inner coat pocket of his trench coat. 

He looked at Dean one last time before he quickly left his room with his loot.

**…. :::: :::: ….**

After catching Cas red handed, Dean decided the best course of action, instead of confronting him outright, was to catch him in the act. Dean had everything in place. He left a couple different things out and crawled into bed, feigning sleep.

Dean waited. And waited.

And finally after too many hours of trying not to fall asleep, the door to his room quietly opened. He tried not to hold his breath and continued pretending to be asleep as Cas slowly crept into his room. He seemed to stop, was probably looking around, before Dean heard him head towards his desk. Probably picking up one of the items Dean had placed there. After another minute, Cas’s light footsteps returned to the door, and he left Dean’s room.

Dean quickly threw off the covers and carefully opened his door. He threw on the slippers and robe before slipping out to follow Cas. He caught a glimpse of him disappearing down the hallway, toward the library.

Where was he going with Dean’s stuff? Dean followed him quietly, waiting at the archway to carefully look into the library. It was dark, but Dean could see Cas in the little alcove that contained the telescope. He lifted his hand against the back of the wall and suddenly the floor in the alcove started to rise and turn, opening a staircase that spiralled upwards along with the telescope. Cas followed the stairs up until he was out of sight. The telescope was gone now, only leaving the alcove and the spiral staircase. Why had he never questioned that the telescope was in a place where it couldn’t be used? Now it all made sense!

Full on Scooby Doo shit. Dean made his way to the staircase, looking up, but all he saw was darkness. Gripping the iron railing, Dean started climbing the stairs.

When he was at the top, all he could see was stars and the full moon above him, coolly lighting up the glass dome that surrounded the telescope in the middle. He looked around and that’s when he saw Cas. 

He was lying at the edge of the room, curled up in a… It looked like a nest. A nest with all of Dean’s things, and some of Cas’s blankets and pillows.

It was both the weirdest, and sweetest thing Dean had ever seen. As he soaked in the beauty of the night sky, he murmured, “Always wondered why we had a damn telescope.”

Dean stepped over what turned out to be some of his missing shirts. That’s when he saw… It looked almost like a shrine, with the book, pen, clip, and picture. All centered around the mixtape he'd made Cas all those years ago.

And Cas was curled around the stuff, right on top of Dean’s sheet, fast asleep.

Dean kneeled beside him and gently shook his shoulder. “Cas?”

Cas startled awake, his eyes turning wide as he sat up in the nest. "Dean!"

Dean nodded as he waved around. “You don’t happen to know where all my stuff is, do you?”

The last time Dean had seen Cas this embarrassed had been when he’d taken him to the brothel all those years ago. "I would have brought everything back," he murmured quietly.

Dean was surprised how not pissed he was. He shook his head. “Dude, are you nesting with my stuff?”

Dean had never seen Cas blush before. But there it was, pinkish cheeks and the most embarrassed expression he had ever seen on the angel's face. "Yes," he admitted quietly. "It's the… phase I told you about."

“Dude, you could’ve told us that. In fact, we would have given you whatever you needed.” This whole situation was too damn cute.

Cas gave him a surprised look. "You would have… given me your stuff?"

Dean nodded. “Of course, man. If you need it for a few weeks for whatever reason.”

Cas rubbed the back of his neck. "I took your bed sheet and your favorite underwear. I'm pretty sure you wouldn't have just parted with those things, even temporarily." He looked up at Dean in confusion. "Why aren't you angry with me?"

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m not thrilled you lied about it, but…” Dean chuckled and looked around, “You’re  _ actually _ nesting. It’s pretty damn sweet.”

Cas looked down at his nest with a sigh. "It's not sweet. It's annoying that my instincts are compelling me to steal your things just to get through this phase with the least amount of pain."

Dean furrowed his brow. “You’re in pain? And why does my stuff help?”

Cas looked uncomfortable then. "The… phase… it's, um, it's… a mating cycle," Cas murmured without looking at Dean.

And then it all clicked into place. “You… you want to mate with me?”

Cas's eyes widened in shock. "No! I mean, kind of, but… I… I, um, that's why I kept this from you. I didn't want you to think… I… I respect that this isn't how we are. It's just my grace, my biology, that doesn't care about my decisions… it only follows my heart. And my grace is trying to bond with your soul and there is nothing I can do about it, except spend time close to your personal items to calm it down and wait until the cycle is over."

Dean didn’t know what possessed him to ask, “Why me?”

Cas looked away from Dean. "Isn't that obvious?" he asked quietly, a sad undertone in his voice.

“Say it,” Dean urged, feeling frozen in place.

Cas swallowed visibly, still not looking at him. "I… I love you."

Dean had thought that might be the case, deep down. He gently grasped Cas’s chin to tilt his head back up. “So, touching my things makes you feel better?”

Cas's eyes were full of nervousness as he slowly nodded. "Yes, they carry a part of you. Sometimes I just like the way they smell like you. It comforts me. It's almost like I'm close to you."

It wasn’t like Dean was innocent of thinking about his best friend. There were dreams, and moments, where his attraction almost overwhelmed him. Dean didn’t know how to deal with… everything he was seeing, but he wasn’t angry, he wasn’t as weirded out as he should be. “Can I give you anything else? Until it’s over?”

Cas shook his head. "I can't ask any more of you. If you'll just let me keep your things for a while longer... It's more than I could hope for."

“I don’t mind, Cas,” he said as he pulled the necklace off and offered it to the angel.

Cas reached out and took it from him. His fingers lingered on his, and he could see the massive relief on Cas's face. "Thank you. I'm sure this will get me through the night."

Dean felt compelled to lean closer. “There’s nothing else I can do to help?”

Cas looked up at him with hooded eyes. "You could stay and come into my nest. It would mean something… normally, but I know you're human and you don't know anything about angels and mating. So it would just be you being close. And it wouldn't mean anything else to me."

Dean nodded, carefully pulling off his robe and offering it to Cas. “Where should I sleep?”

Cas's eyes roamed over his body before he took Dean's robe and weaved it into his nest. He shifted to make space for Dean right next to him in between all the pillows and blankets. "Here in the middle," Cas breathed out.

Dean shifted into the space. It was weirdly comfortable. “Here?”

"Yes," Cas replied shyly. "Do you like my nest?"

Dean chuckled as he looked around. “Well, seeing as it’s my stuff,” he teased, looking up at the star filled sky. “This is peaceful though.”

"It's the highest point in the bunker," Cas explained. "It's a safe place." He shifted to his side as he laid down. "Dean? Can I…, um, can I put my head on your chest?"

He couldn’t see the harm in that. Dean nodded and opened his arms in invitation. “Sure.”

There was another shy smile he received for his answer before Cas carefully placed his head on his chest, the palm of his hand settling over Dean's heart. He exhaled softly and Dean could feel the angel relax. "This is perfect," Cas whispered.

“Is this what you need?” Dean breathed out.

Cas rubbed his nose softly against Dean's chest and hummed. "Yes, you work a lot better than your bed sheet. I tried avoiding you the past few days because it was so hard for me not to touch you. All my instincts want to be close to you."

Dean hummed, letting out a soft laugh. “It’s kinda adorable.”

Cas's fingers drew patterns on his chest. He was quiet for a moment before he whimpered, "No, it's not. I hate feeling like this, and I hope it will be over soon."

Dean looked down at him, brow furrowed in concern. “Anything else I can do?”

Cas scoffed lightly. "Nothing that wouldn't alter our relationship."

“Alter how?” Dean couldn’t stop himself from asking.

Cas looked up at him. "I built a nest for mating, Dean. That's what my grace compels me to do. Because of my feelings for you. The closer I get to that act, the quicker this phase will be over."

Dean’s eyebrows shot up. “Sex?”

Cas simply nodded before he put his head down on his chest. "And lying here with you is probably the closest thing, so it will have to be enough."

Dean was a little torn, because he wasn’t exactly opposed to it. “And if it’s not?”

Cas sighed and braced himself on Dean's chest to look at him before he admitted, "I'll probably be in this phase for longer."

Dean nervously licked his lips as he stared at Cas’s. “And there’s nothing else I can do?” he repeated, voice a little shaky.

"Everything in terms of physical intimacy helps," Cas replied, sliding a little closer to him. 

“Like…” Dean swallowed down his nervousness and pressed a chaste kiss to Cas’s lips.

Cas's breathing hitched audibly, and a second later Dean had Cas's fingers buried in his hair, his soft plush lips chasing Dean's, before he felt Cas's tongue ghosting over the seam of his lips with a soft whimper.

Dean allowed himself to succumb, relenting to Cas as he took control. 

Cas's tongue pushed into his mouth, exploring him with a soft moan, with the desperation of a drowning man. Cas was breathing heavily when he leaned back from his lips, pressing his forehead against Dean's. "I’m… sorry, it's so hard to stop."

Dean groaned. “Then don’t…”

"You don't know what you're saying," Cas groaned before he slid onto Dean's lap, pressing his lips to Dean's again. "I need you, Dean," he pleaded.

“How much?” Dean gasped out.

"Please, Dean. You make me crazy," Cas whispered. "Please mate me."

“Fuck,” Dean groaned out as he went from zero to sixty, giving in to needy kiss after needy kiss. 

Cas's fingers slid down his chest and to the hem of his shirt before he started to pull it up, only stopping their kisses to pull Dean's shirt over his head. His hair was chaotic, lips parted and red from kissing as Cas looked at him as if he was the center of the universe.

“Kiss me,” Dean murmured.

Cas surged forward and kissed him with a groan, his cloth-covered erection pressed against Dean’s stomach.

“Cas…” Dean gasped out as he lost himself to sensation.

Cas's hand fell to Dean's boxers. "I want to touch all of your skin, please."

Dean nodded into the kiss as he shuffled his boxers down. 

Cas slid lower on his body, helping him to get rid of them before he leaned over and started kissing down Dean’s body. He took his time, working his lips over every inch of skin, teasing Dean’s nipples with his tongue before he wandered south.

“Shit, Cas…” Of all the possibilities of how tonight could have gone down, this wasn’t one of them. Not that Dean was mad about it.

Cas looked up from his exploration of Dean's stomach, his eyes full of devotion and a touch of insecurity. "Is… is this okay, what I'm doing?"

Dean gently carded his hand through Cas’s hair. “If you want this too.”

Cas hummed and pressed his head into Dean's hand like a touch-starved cat. "I want this more than anything. You know how I feel about you." His blue eyes searched his for an answer. "But I don't know why you're open to me touching you so intimately."

Dean didn’t really know either. He just knew he was on board with it. “You know I’d do anything for you.”

Cas stared at him for a moment. “So you’re just doing this to help me?”

“I mean… yeah, I guess?”

Cas gave him a heartbroken look that was almost as bad as the one he received when he threw him out of the bunker all of those years ago. "Oh... I see. Um..." He looked away with a pained expression before he just wordlessly curled into himself in the opposite corner of the nest.

“Cas… Cas, what?” Dean asked as he leaned over to gently shake his shoulder.

Cas whimpered and shook his head, making himself as small as possible. "Can you... can you just leave? Please?"

“What… what did I do?” This was the exact opposite of what he wanted to happen.

Cas buried himself deeper in his nest. "You only want to help me, but you don't really want me. I can't go through with this if this doesn't mean anything to you."

“But I…” really liked what they were doing. Dean didn’t know why, that much was true, but he wasn’t against being intimate with Cas.

Cas shook his head. "Just leave me, Dean."

“I don’t want to,” he whispered.

Cas looked up at Dean with a pained expression. "I can't deal with this right now, Dean. My grace is tearing me apart. I want you so much, but it will break me if this is the only time I can have you."

“Why would it be the only time?” he asked carefully.

Cas tilted his head, something like hope flickered in his eyes. "You said... you're only doing this to help me. What if I don't need your help after this anymore?"

Dean ducked his gaze as he admitted, “I want to help you, but I… I also want you.”

Cas's lips parted as he stared at him in disbelief. "Please tell me you're not joking."

“I wouldn’t joke about that.”

Cas slid closer on his knees before he rested his head on Dean’s shoulder. “Please, Dean. Make me yours.”

Dean gently tilted Cas’s face and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Okay.”

Cas kissed him back, first carefully, but then with more fervor as he quickly got rid of his shirt and pushing his pants off with his underwear. The moment he was completely naked, he slid onto Dean’s lap again, deepening the kiss. 

Dean gasped into it, allowing himself to succumb to unadulterated passion, hands roaming skin he’d only ever fantasized about.

“Please, Dean,” Cas moaned as he rocked his hips against Dean’s erection. “Please take me.”

Dean nodded and gently pushed Cas onto his back before crawling over him. “Do you… do you have stuff?”

Cas procured a bottle of Astroglide from somewhere in the nest. It was Dean's bottle. "You mean this?"

Dean barked out a laugh. “You swiped my lube?”

“I think there isn’t much left that I didn’t take,” Cas replied sheepishly.

Dean pressed a kiss to his lips. “Good thing you’re cute.”

“Would you be angry with me otherwise?” Cas asked timidly, as he spread his legs for Dean.

Dean chuckled and shook his head. “Probably not,” he murmured as he poured some lube on his fingers.

“Dean,” Cas moaned, his cheeks flushed as he spread his legs even more. “Please, hurry.”

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” he breathed out as he pressed his digits to Cas’s hole, holding back his own pleasured groan.

"Don't worry," Cas breathed out, writhing against the floor of his nest. "The muscles of my body are very relaxed. Every part of me wants you and is ready for you."

He wasn’t lying as Dean’s index finger easily slipped inside his hole. “Fuck, Cas.”

Cas stretched his arms over his head, pressing his palms languidly against the corner of his nest that was elevated by pillows. He looked so sinful writhing his body like that, all on display for Dean. “Please, yes, Dean. I need you.”

Dean was hypnotized as he stroked some lube over his cock and lined himself up. “You’re beautiful.”

Cas blushed at his words, giving him a shy look that was mixed in with lust and pure abandon. "Please, make me yours, Dean. Mate me. In our nest."

Dean pushed inside, gasping Cas’s name as an overwhelming heat surrounded him. “Oh, fuck.”

“Yes... Oh, Dean, you feel so good. Like you’re made for me.” Cas blushed again. “Ohhh, I… please. You make me crazy.”

Dean groaned as he slowly bottomed out, his body trembling with pleasure. “Fuck, Cas…”

Cas closed his eyes with a low moan. "Perfect, you're so perfect, Dean."

With a slight shift, Dean wrapped his arms around Cas’s face and started moving his hips. The heat, the pleasure was intoxicating. “Kiss me,” he murmured against his cheek.

Cas turned his head before pulling Dean into a deep kiss. He softly bit his lower lip, groaning as his hips rocked up to meet Dean's. "Dean, I love you. I love you so much."

Dean gasped out and started fucking into him faster. “You really do?”

“Yes, Dean, please. You know I do. Told you… Uhhh, Dean, please,” Cas begged.

Dean started fucking him a little faster. “Goddamn you’re beautiful.”

“Dean, I’m so close. Please, mark me.”

The growl that escaped him was innate as his lips slid to Cas’s pulse point before he bit down. Sucking the skin between his teeth in an aggressive, passion fueled need.

"Uhhhh, Dean," Cas cried out as his channel tightened around him. A moment later, Cas gasped as his ministrations ripped an orgasm from the angel, painting their torsos.

It was all it took for Dean to follow, crying out Cas’s name as he filled him.

Cas moaned, throwing his head back with closed eyes. "Uhhh, yes, Dean.  _ Yes." _

Dean hummed as he drew Cas in for a gentle kiss and relaxed against him.

Cas seemed to take his time coming back to him, but when he finally looked at Dean he smiled brightly. “Thank you,” he breathed out. “I feel so much better now.”

Dean chuckled and pressed a lazy kiss to his lips. “Good.”

“Can you stay the night with me… up here?” Cas asked carefully.

Dean smiled. “I was hoping you didn’t plan on kicking my ass out.”

“Never. I built this for us.“ Cas gave him a sheepish smile. “I just never thought I could share it with you.”

Dean gently carded his hand through Cas’s hair. “Well, I’m glad we can.”

Cas gave him a happy smile. "Then get comfortable. Maybe we can sleep a little bit."

Dean liked the sound of that.

**…. :::: :::: ….**

_ At the end of the procession, where heaven and earth meet in harmony, paradise; it is His chosen, the angels bore of His essence, that will succumb to their nature. Ministering spirits meant to serve those who will inherit salvation, protectors of His most cherished creation. On hand and knee, a guardian will bear up his charge at the command of instinct, for angels are most capable of love.  _

_ The wings of a guardian ministering spirit will be wrapped about that which they covet, gentle in a whispering of their love. Everywhere in His dominion, His kingdom, mighty are His angels. The throne shall be encircled once every ten thousand years, for their only love shall be that of the throne of the King.  _

_ If an angel has fallen, the instinct will still arise, but for that which the angel betrayed his Father. For he will no longer be beside, around, or within his brethren, for his contamination will cast him from Heaven. Should the unfortunate event arrive, Heavenly instincts will out and he will need his inherent salvation in the embrace of the Lamb, whom receives his glory and praise. Else the instinct will consume his essence, his grace. _

_ This expression of instinctual need will arise in acts of theft and depravity, in order for the angel to harmonize within, grace and physical form. An aerie replete with objects that are once belonged to the root, the cause for which the angel is now an abomination.  _

Sam looked up from the book. “What the…” So Cas was probably stealing all the things out of some weird angel instinct? He needed to tell Dean. Or find Cas. Hopefully that would shed some light on the situation. 

He couldn’t help but feel worried about Cas. The paragraph about his instincts consuming Cas’s grace sounded particularly bad. Sam wondered if Cas was aware of what was happening to him. And if he was, he wondered even more why he hadn’t said anything.

He quickly jogged to Dean’s room trying to find his brother, but the room was empty. “Dean?” Sam called out to him before he went towards Cas’s room. He knocked on the door but there was no answer. As he carefully opened Cas’s door to see if his friend was okay, he found the room empty as well. 

He had passed the kitchen on his way back to the rooms, which had been empty too. So there weren’t many options left for him to look. They weren’t in the garage, and the Impala and Cas’s truck were still there, so they had to be in the bunker.

Sam searched every room and called for them, but they seemed to have vanished. So he went back to the library and opened his laptop while trying to call Dean on his phone. It was ringing, and after the fifth time it went to voicemail.  _ Great.  _ Well, at least it meant Dean’s phone was on and he could locate the GPS.

He started to trace it and was surprised that the GPS told him it was in the bunker. He checked Cas’s phone, too. It was also in the bunker. “What the hell?”

He looked around in the library wondering if maybe they were outside in the woods on a walk, but that didn’t sound like something Dean would do. Cas did sometimes, but since they were both gone, they were probably together somewhere.

His eyes kept returning to the telescope alcove because his brain was telling him that something was off there. Sam squinted his eyes and that’s when he noticed it. The telescope wasn’t there!

He stood up from the chair and walked over to the alcove, for the first time noticing stairs that lead up to something above the library.

_ Son of a bitch!  _ How had he missed this? 

He carefully climbed up the stairs, in awe as he noticed the little glass dome above him, the vanished telescope right in the middle of it. It made a lot of sense now that there was a secret room for that. Why would the Men of Letters have a telescope if they couldn't use it? Sam felt incredibly stupid in that moment for never having questioned it. 

When he was at the top stair he gasped as his eyes fell on Cas and Dean. They were sleeping in each other's arms... naked, and surrounded by all the stuff Cas must have stolen from Dean in the past few days.

Sam held his hand in front of his mouth so he wouldn’t wake them. It looked like Dean had done his own research, with his own methods, and found the answer to his problem.

He wondered what this meant for them, but the answer to that question could wait until later, when they had clothes on and were awake. Sam couldn’t help the grin as he made his way down the stairs, knowing he now had teasing material for the next few years.

Dean and Cas were sleeping naked in a self-made nest. Like little birds. 

Sam swore to himself if he found out that Cas was okay and this was just a phase…  _ oh man _ , he would definitely give them bird seed for breakfast. 

Just because this was their weird fucking life. 

Sam smiled again when he reached the library. Most importantly, he was happy for them. Seeing them both cuddled together like that, something so primal and comforting, he knew they both deserved something good in their lives. 

So, if Cas’s wild thieving spree was what led to this, maybe he wouldn’t tease them as much as he had planned. But yeah… the bird seed for breakfast was definitely happening.

**The End**


End file.
